


seat for one

by grassangel



Series: Kinktober 2017 [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Femdom, Human Furniture, Kinktober 2017, The Vault (Doctor Who), Unresolved Sexual Tension, implied past Twelfth Doctor/River, very loose interpretation of the kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 05:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12314559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grassangel/pseuds/grassangel
Summary: There are other chairs in the Vault of course. But Missy has to pick him to sit in.interpreted (very loosely) for the Kinktober 2017 prompt "02: Forniphilia (Human Furniture)"





	seat for one

**Author's Note:**

> This is written to the letter of the kink (i.e. use of another person as a piece of furniture), but not to the spirit of it (i.e. the dynamics that occur through the use of another person as a piece of furniture/the extreme discipline needed to act as a still piece of furniture). I could've opted for one of the other prompts, but I am absolutely in love with the idea that the amount of chairs in the Vault is due to behaviour like this.

He hasn’t been paying attention to Missy, which in general is a bad idea but she’s been good recently, especially when he’s spending time in the Vault with her. His focus is abruptly turned from his book to her when she drops onto his legs, teacup and saucer in hand as if he’s just another piece of furniture.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking a seat,” she says, taking a sip from her cup as if she hasn’t just violated his personal space.

“There are other chairs you know,” he says as Missy settles in closer, taking up the entirety of his lap.

“None of them as warm and soft as this one.” Her hand trails down his stomach to rest at the waistband of his trousers, the weight of her almost as distracting as her touch. “Could do with more padding though.” She grimaces, and the Doctor has to hold back a wince as Missy rearranges her seat across his legs, his book and her tea abandoned to the side table in the process.

She ends up settling with the warm crease of her thigh and buttock over the meat of his own, left arm given over to act as her backrest, hand curling around her hip. It’s pleasant being this close to Missy, despite the fact neither of them are physically suited to being comfortable in this position.

Her warmth and weight is nice enough that he’s being distracted by it again, old habits from his years spent with River on Darillium reviving.

“If I wanted a wooden chair, I’d have sat in one.”

The admonishing flick to his ear with a lacquered nail as Missy leans forward to retrieve book and teacup is loud rather than painful, but it distracts both his attention and blood away from his lap.

“Sorry, habit.”

His book is offered back to him with a familiar complex look of exasperation that he’s never quite been able to fully decipher in all his lives. It makes him feel like an idiot. Her idiot, which, as he starts reading aloud from where he left off, the Doctor isn’t sure is better or worse.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are, as ever, always welcome


End file.
